Some Kind of Control
by ilurrrverussia
Summary: Dedicated to my wife. Mathias Kohler is a beautiful man with peculiar living arrangements, creating a metaphorical prison for Lukas and fellow admirers. But how will Lukas run away from a man he loves? One-shot. Slight angst. Mentions: DenNor, SuFin, NedDen, HongIce, DenSu.


If you have not yet had the pleasure of knowing Mathias Kohler, consider yourself lucky. If you have met him, escape whilst you still can, please. If I write this as if it were a fairy tale, it is because it felt that way.

There is no need to inform you of my past. All you have to know is that I had fell on hard times. During the day I sent my brother to school and wrote twee stories for him; at night I had other businesses to attend to.

In these nightly hours, I met Mathias. He held me as I despaired; he listened as I cleared my head; he knew me more than I could bare. He learnt all my stupid hopes for the future: he knew all about my past.

In return he told me about himself when I asked. He told me he was just an aspiring artist who lived in a nice house just in the closest city. He told me all about his odd thoughts; his hopes; his apparent love for me. He told me that he would continue to come for me and Emil until one day we would leave with him. I thought he was being cute: he was being serious.

My daily hours were then spent daydreaming about this optimistic Dane. He wriggled his way into my writing. He made me dejected from those around me. Constantly I checked my phone, looking for that little envelope symbol. I told my little brother to start ringing me or contacting me through apps, just so that precious envelope symbol could be purely synonymous with Mathias. I just sat and ached for when I would next feel his wild hair tickle my neck, for when I would next hear his joyous laugh, for when he would promise me that I was special. He made every other client seem even more pathetic. The hands on the clock barely moved without his presence. But the minute he appeared, an hour would flow by.

One thing you must know about me is that I cannot show my love well. I scoff at cheesiness; I laugh at clichés. This prevented me from telling Mathias just how much I relied on him. Sometimes I wonder if that is exactly why he chose me for I could never express my love for him so I could never accuse him of his gentle cruelty.

Yet again, dear audience, you do not need to know the specifics. The time came when Emil, my dear little brother, and I could no longer stay in our shed of a house. Not truly knowing where to go, I rang Mathias to come and drive us to a hostel. Mathias came and drove us to his home.

Seeing the rainbow pallet of colours he used for his interior has become second nature to me now. Each room had to have three bright colours: two contrasting and one complimenting. He told me it was an artistic reflection of his sanity. Maybe that is where I should have left.

"Bad vibes." Emil whispered into my ear and he shyly clung to my arm. His face was full of defiance and whatever teenagers consider "angst". Mathias smiled at him in a way that made my heart turn. Maybe that was the second warning.

Dear reader, do not judge your writer too harshly. For if you meet Mathias you will understand completely. For every warning sign that I saw that first evening, I shamelessly forgot once I saw those blue eyes welcome me. I forgot the world when he held me that night. He told me he was going to look after me. I could have anything I wanted: any food, any clothes, anything. All I wanted was him, not that could I tell him that. I finally got him.

Just because I am a writer does not mean I am necessarily a good one. I also cannot stand contractions, if you have not already noticed by my narrative style. I shall cut to the chase now. My memory deteriorates after that last section. I remember Emil already leaving for school. I remember my navy blue pyjamas. But my full stream of consciousness starts at this point:

"You forgot to tell me about Berwald?!"

It was my voice. It sure sounded like my voice. But I do not remember my throat or tongue moving. I never remembered there being any saliva in my mouth to talk with. However I remember my mouth being open. It stayed open.

"Berwald, did you do something to Lukas?"

This creature called Berwald shook his head.

"See Lukas? I don't get the drama."

One moment I was on the stairs, the next I was in Mathias' arms- screaming.

"What is Berwald to you?!"

"Berwald is Berwald to me, just as you are Lukas."

On the floor, I ended up spread across his yellow carpet. The world looked darker from my eyes. Mathias was no longer grinning at me, just frowning inquisitively. He turned and left for the door.

"I'll be back soon kids. I've got to go and buy some more stuff. Berwald, lock up after me."

Berwald grunted and did so obediently. Berwald always seemed so obedient.

Air raced beneath me as my body was lifted up on to the purple couch. I scratched where Berwald touched me and glared at him.

"Get out wh'lst ye can."

"No. You just want to be alone with him. He's mine, I'm not leaving."

A response never came from Berwald. He simply pushed up his glasses and stared at me.

"Did Mathias tell you I was coming to live with him?"

"He nev'r does."

Tears are so warm against cold skin. Teeth are so harsh against soft lips. Sound is so loud against quiet people. I felt so lonely in an obviously full relationship. I broke down in front of Berwald. Berwald stood up in front of me and escaped into the garden as I watched him by the French doors. He cut hedges into fairies, mermaids, animals- you name it. I fantasised about decapitating him with one of his cutters. Perhaps I dreamt about it too enthusiastically. My mind whirred with how I could hide the body, how wonderful his thick neck would look smothered with lovely warm blood. Eventually my brain turned to the idea that Mathias would instantly know it was me. Mathias was more fearful than any court. Needless to say, I am glad that I never killed Berwald.

My pride and hope forbid me from inquiring Berwald about the overall situation. Instead I watched him from afar, completely numb. Mathias came back with a door key for me and Emil. My spirit lifted when his hand accidentally brushed against mine. Was it an accident?

I spent my days writing about cruel romances and brutal tragedies. Evenings passed with a weird variety. Mathias would come back from his latest art showing, grinning and bouncing with enthusiasm. Berwald and I would melt silently on our opposite ends of the couch. Emil would hide upstairs in his room. Whilst Berwald prepared dinner, I would go and check up on Emil. Mathias would paint his latest beautifully crazy vision. Emil would emerge downstairs solely for the purpose of food. I would clean up afterwards.

After dinner would come the most difficult aspects of being with that bittersweet Dane. Each little gaze stolen, each brief touch, would consolidate this idea in my head that he loved me. But then every little gesture towards Berwald would cause me to burn violently. Eczema broke out on my arm, which allowed me to take my frustration out on something.

Often Mathias would cuddle Berwald whilst watching a movie. Often he would come to me whilst watching a drama. Sometimes he would solely dote himself upon Berwald. Sometimes he would be mine and mine alone. Every now and then he spoilt us both. On the odd occasion he would neglect us both, to either turn to his room or go out.

I often justified my perpetual hope that he loved me.

"He kisses me more," I whispered to myself.

"He hugs me more," Berwald whispered back to me.

Only then did it occur to me that this exotic man was playing with us all. What I felt, Berwald felt too. We were united in the way Mathias played us; we were separated in our jealousy of each other. We both wanted Mathias all to ourselves; we both wanted to escape.

After a month or so, another man joined Mathias' loving game. He was tall, handsome, brooding. I seemed to find a pattern in Mathias' chose of lovers. This new man was called Lars.

"You don't live alone?" His grumbly voice asked as he saw Berwald and I on our opposite corners of the couch.

"Nope. I have Berwald and Lukas for company. Emil just hides in his room."

Lars did not look shaken. He nodded to the two of us and dragged his suitcases upstairs. Mathias grinned at us both but frowned when he saw our empty expressions.

"Come now boys, you can leave whenever you want." He whispered coyly and then ascended up after Lars.

To be fair, we all tried at some point to escape. I lasted two hours on a park bench. Berwald's record was 24 hours, hiding in the garden. Lars' record was far more impressive. He went a month once and then came back.

"I love him," He told me after he came back, "I kept hoping to see him behind me, running after me. I kept hoping to see him on his knees, begging me to come back. But he never did. When I was gone, I was gone completely to him."

I nodded. He summed it up perfectly. To escape from Mathias was to never see him again, but be haunted by the longing for him. Aching for his smile; dreaming about his eyes.

The jealousy and eczema got worse when Lars was slipped into the equation. But I never could hate Lars or Berwald. They were just as trapped as I was. A weird comradery grew between us.

"You ever need anything that Mathias cannot give you, hit me up. I love Mathias and he loves you two. So we've got to work together."

Berwald's large hands patted Lars' shoulder. I nodded my gratitude. We never were a house for conversation. Lars ran his drug business, Berwald tended the garden and made furniture whilst I wrote. My writing now had a theme of friendship to accompany the brutal romance and tragedy. However this never stopped the competition for Mathias' affection.

"Mathias, are you sleeping in my room tonight?" Lars asked him as our shared lover was curled up to me. Safe arms, wonderful warmth, tickling hair- only the most perfect people can make the best villains.

"I was actually going to sleep in Berwald's tonight."

We all stared at Berwald. Berwald blushed and looked away from us all.

The moonlight poured all over me when I was abruptly awoken by a change in the room. The familiar silhouette of Emil welcomed my sleepy eyes.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"I'm leaving."

My body bolted upright. I grabbed the knife I kept under my pillow.

"What did Mathias do? Where is he?"

There is no sin too great for me to commit in the name of my brother, dear reader. My brother jumped back and told me to drop the knife. I laid it down next to me and turned to him again.

"Tell me. Now."

Emil cautiously closed the door behind him and sat on my bed. The moonlight made him look so much older than I remembered him to be. It highlighted his beautiful eyes and translucent skin. It was that moment, in the moonlight, I realised that Emil needed to escape Mathias. Before Mathias could touch that pale skin; before he completely stole the sparkle in Emil's eyes.

"I want to live with my friend. He lives in a big traditional Asian family. They're happy to have another boy," he explained delicately, "their house has such lovely, warm vibes. This house feels weird and false. Besides," he looked away for this part, "I can feel myself being lost under Mathias' spell."

"Have you noticed he loves fairy tales too?"

"Yes. His art, his garden, his books… It's all very… Magic themed?"

I shuffled closer to Emil and clasped him under that moonlight. I held him close to me and combed his hair with my fingers. My precious little brother had to be removed from me due to this man… What kind of brother was I?

"Go. I will try and find a way out. I'll publish my stories… I'll join Lars' illegal drug trade… I'll learn how to made things with Berwald… I'll do anything to get us a house of our own, do you understand?"

My little brother held me at arm's length and looked straight into my eyes. One perfect tear escaped his left eye as he told me:

"You're never going to escape his spell."

"I liked Emil, cute kid. Reminded me of my little brother." Lars commented as he calculated his money the next day. Berwald grunted an agreement.

"Lars, can I join your drug trade?"

Lars raised an eyebrow at me as he looked at his "products".

"Need the money? Mathias has money, you could always ask—"

"Mathias won't g've him th'money to buy a house," Berwald interrupted, reading my thoughts perfectly. Berwald may have looked distant, but he was perfectly tuned in.

Lars looked at me from the corner of his eye. He sighed and then turned to me.

"I like you, Lukas. I'll help you out. But we all know that we can't escape."

"We need t' break the sp'll."

To break the spell was to fall out of love with this perfect Dane, to no longer feel his kisses or to care for his whispers. I did not know if I was going to be ready for that. In truth, dear reader, I did not know whether I would ever be.

The intelligent ones escape. The intelligent ones survive. I would swap my looks for intelligence in the space of a Danish heartbeat. However, like most things in this world, intelligence shown up where no one was expecting it to be. It showed up in the package of a small man.

Berwald, Lars and I were preparing some more products for Lars' business. We decided to make a joint investment in a property in a nearby town. Our hope was that, as long as we had each other to support us, no one would go back to our favourite Dane. In the meantime we were raising funds to put down our deposit.

"And we may as well enjoy Mathias whilst we're still here." I said to the others. We all knew I was not joking.

We heard that familiar jingle that made our hearts start an uproar in our chests. But when I heard another voice follow through, I gripped my arm. Jealousy, despair and a sense of sympathetic empathy for the next man who walked in to see us.

"Mathias, you liar! You told me your house is average, your house is HUGE!"

My head snapped to face Berwald. Berwald gulped. Lars muttered something sympathetic under his breath.

The poor new man walked into the living room. His doe eyes and his small stature made him look so alien compared to the three of us on the floor.

"Mathias! Oh Mathias! There are squatters in your living room."

"Don't worry, sweetie, they're just the others!"

A familiar pang went off in my heart. We are the 'others', and soon this new man was going to join us.

"Hmm? Are they your family?" The new man asked sheepishly, staring at us all like a lamb in a bear's cave.

"Not quite, sweetie." Mathias commented as he finally entered the living room too.

"We love Mathias too."

And with Lars' comment, the new boy collapsed onto the floor;

Tino, the new boy, turned out to be the odd link in Mathias' chain. The rest of us were never the ones for conversing- Tino could never shut up. The rest of us were tall and handsome- Tino was a short cutie. I shadily commented to Lars that Tino looked like a twelve year old. Lars smirked and nudged me.

"He's different but he's included in this game too."

"Do you think he's Mathias' favourite?"

"No, Lukas, Mathias has no favourites."

Lars was right. Tino had to share Mathias with the rest of us. But unlike us, he was struggling with the concept.

"So Mathias, do you love me?"

"Yes darling!"

"Then why are you kissing Lars?"

"Because I love Lars too."

"Then how come you can love more than one person?"

"I just do, Tino." Mathias replied bluntly as he hid under the blankets. Berwald shot me a look. I nodded back. Tino was going to change the dynamics of our group, for sure.

As time went by, Tino settled in. He was not as awful as I had anticipated either. It was nice to hear someone rambling every now and then. He helped with his share of chores. He was awful at Berwald's crafts so he stuck with counting Lars' money.

"So, how did you all meet Mathias?" He asked us out of the blue one day.

"I'm a g'rdner. He hired me. I f'll for him." Berwald replied, not looking up from his pile of money.

"I fell on hard times, he let me live with him." I answered quickly.

"I'm a drug dealer. He's a very… wonderful client."

"Oh! Oh! How interesting. I've got some problems, haha. He told me he would protect me from scary men like Ivan. He didn't tell me he already had lovers."

Tino's eyes never matched his chubby smile. It made me cautious of him.

"He didn't tell any of us."

Tino bounced up and down as he counted the money. I stared at Berwald. Berwald never saw me.

"I thought tonight wasn't my night," I whispered as my favourite man nestled in behind me. His lips brushed against my ear.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," I whined, "I've just not prepared, that's all."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter. I synchronised my breathing to the rhythm of his chest.

"Wait. Isn't it Berwald's night?"

My eyes were closed when I said that. I feared the cold air that would hit me when Mathias would leave. But Mathias never stirred.

"Funny story. I thought I'd teach Tino all about love," His lips danced around my neck as he told me. It always infuriated when he talked about the others when we were alone.

"And?"

"Would you believe, Berwald had already brought the task upon himself?"

"…Do you not like that?"

I could feel my entire body going red with rage. No one should take hypocrisy lightly. I gazed into Mathias' eyes to see his reaction. Mathias smirked back at me.

"I like it. It's kind of hot. I just wished they had invited me."

My anger died down and was replaced with that horrible, warm fuzzy feeling. That intense excitement that he gave me returned. I knew I could never leave, even if I was just Tino's replacement that night.

Time, as an idea, escaped me whilst I was living with Mathias. Even now I could not tell you how long I spent in Mathias' cruel love game. Ultimately the first day of winter crept into our isolated world, chasing out the autumn. Along with the autumn went two of Mathias' lovers.

A shift in energies woke me up with alarm. I ran to the frosted window and saw two silhouettes in the distance. A tall oblong and a smaller square-like shadow. The latter turned to me, and in the pale moonlight that I have grown so fond of, mouthed an apology to me. I scoffed- I knew they were not sorry. They had broken the spell with a new one of their own. That apology was as fake as one of Tino's smiles.

Peculiarly, Mathias was specifically upset.

"I wanted him for one of my paintings," he murmured when he learnt there was no breakfast nor coffee mugs in the house, "and Tino was my cinema buddy."

Unfortunately it meant Lars and I got more time with Mathias and his optimistic outlook and charming grin, which meant we became more besotted with him. The hours where he was gone became unbearable. At some point Lars went missing for a week. Then it was bliss.

"Aren't you lucky," he fussed over me, "You have me all to your greedy little self."

I hummed a reply. He was so infectious, so wonderful, so refreshing. We were so different that it just made perfect sense.

When Lars came back, I had to stifle a whine.

"I tried, I'm sorry Lukas."

I shrugged at him. The torture continued until one day, whilst I was cleaning the dishes and Lars was cleaning the stove, there was a knock at the door. Mathias bounced to the door as he usually did and opened it.

From the kitchen window I could see the front garden and the front door, due to the irregular shape of Mathias' house. So I immediately saw Berwald's familiar black coat stand out against the white surroundings. Mathias stepped out into the open, allowing us a clear view of him. Lars cut the music and opened the window a little.

"You're back?"

"Ja. Tino's gone miss'ng."

"I warned Tino that the outside world was cruel and full of evil men like Ivan," Mathias commented with a grin. Then his eyes lowered and his grin was replaced with a frown. "Unless Tino deliberately left."

Berwald took a step closer.

"Maybe Tino doesn't love you anymore. Maybe Tino never did. Maybe he ran away once you were no use to him. Maybe—"

Mathias was smirking, a new kind of sparkle in his eyes. Then I blinked. Suddenly Mathias was a feet up in the air as Berwald held him above him by the collar of his shirt. All of Berwald's emotions leaked out at once. His face became contorted with anger whilst his eyes leaked.

"Enough. You've play'd us all a pr'tty game… Now enough!"

"I have played you a pretty game? Me? I'm being used as a homeless shelter; a drug den and a carpentry! You've all used me!"

Something snapped in Berwald. His face went back to its usual grumpy expression. His eyes no longer streamed. But his eyes went wide suddenly, as if possessed. Somehow a phone was in my hand whilst Lars readied himself.

"You can't be cursed by someone…" His mouth spilt out, "If they're dead…"

Berwald's arm raised to slam the Dane against the brick shed. I dropped the phone. Lars had now appeared on the other side of the window.

"NO BERWALD!" 

The Dutchman had lunged at the taller one, causing Mathias to land on the snow. The two rolled in the snow, bloodied and bruised from each other's blows. Berwald's glasses were smashed whilst Lars' hair was ripped out. I just stood there and watched. Part of me was horrified: part of me was glad. This juxtaposition grew worse when I felt something strong snake around my waist.

"I'm so lucky to have you, Lukas."

"Lars is the one fighting for you."

"I think I might be sick, Lukas."

I turned my face away from the scene and towards him.

"What?"

"I think I'm beginning to have favourites."

"Don't have 'angry revenge sex' with Mathias, do you hear me?!" Lars shouted over to Berwald as he started undoing his shirt.

"Actually, that sounds fun." Mathias remarked.

"I'm not. I'm tak'ng ye."

"Oh? You want to fight again?" Lars started taking his shirt off.

"Is that what 'taking' means?" Mathias whispered in my ear. Hopelessly, I shrugged at him and draped myself all over him. His eyes twinkled at me and he grabbed my waist.

"What did you mean about having favourites?" I practically mouthed to him. His reply never came.

"If ye lov'd Tino, ye would've helped me find him." Berwald barked to us all. His eyes darting from each of us, expecting us to give him something to latch onto.

"Next time yer cuddl'ng with th't freak, rem'mber Tino. Rem'mber that M'thias won't come look'ng for ye."

"That's exactly why we can't leave."

Berwald left again once he took his share out of our property pot. He also stole Mathias' mobile. Maybe he felt he deserved that much from him. This time Mathias did not look shaken at all by Berwald's disappearance. But the bliss with just Lars, Mathias and I did not last a week. For Berwald came back again… With Emil.

"Lukas, we're going."

"C'mon Lars."

They were clever. They had waited until Mathias had left for another one of his art exhibitions. However they both look flustered. Berwald's eyes kept darting to his watch. Emil kept chewing his lip.

"Where are we going?"

"To buy th't prop'rty."

"But we don't have enough."

"Yes you do Lukas! Emil and I contributed!"

The tiny silhouette from that moonlight had appeared in the lamplight.

"…You're not dead?"

"No! I just had to go and do some blackmailing." Tino grinned at us all. For once those crazy doe eyes matched up with his grin. Berwald practically melted all over him.

Lars, to my surprise, was already packed.

"Do you need help packing, Lukas?"

A sense of despair washed over me. My vision went blurry as my nails dug into my arm. The world was spinning too quickly… The idea that I would actually leave never occurred to me…

I wanted Mathias.

"B-But… Mathias…"

"He doesn't love you, Lukas."

"But he…"

"Lukas, he doesn't love any of us."

"But he's such a nice guy… He doesn't mean to hurt any of us…"

"Lukas, you have to go. Ivan is looking for him."

Pretending I had some kind of control, I put my hands on my hips.

"I've been meaning to ask. Who is Ivan?"

"Ivan is a mafia member. He wants to kill the man who took his precious Tino," Tino explained with a sadistic sense of joy in his voice, "thankfully I persuaded him to let Mathias live, on the condition that Ivan is allowed to transport him to another country."

"But where?"

"I don't know, Great Britain? If he sees you with Mathias, he might take you as a hostage or kill you or something. Ivan's pretty wild."

I stared at them all hopelessly. What kind of ending to a chapter was this? I expected something romantic or tragic or at least beautiful. Instead I got mafia business and four men. Just as I was going to give up, Emil came down with my suitcase.

"Please, big brother, let's go away."

There is nothing in this world, no sin nor continent too big, I would not do for my Emil.

When I travel abroad, I expect to see Mathias somewhere in the crowd. Constantly I search for messy blond hair or a man with an infectious twinkle in his eye or a bounce in his step. Every now and then I see a man who may have one of these features and my heart flutters, only to crash when I realise it is not him.

Sitting on park benches have always been my favourite thing to do when trying to tap into my imagination. Yet often my mind will remember those small gestures that made me believe that I was all his, those blissful times when we were alone, those nights…

Oh my gosh I am so cheesy, kill me.

Dear reader, you do not need to know the intricacies of my future. Just know that we are all safe and happy. My little Emil got himself a boyfriend… I might not be happy about that…

Yeah.

Consequently, if you see tall man with naughty twinkle in his eyes, beware. If you see a man with ruffled hair and a bounce in his step, be warned. If you see a man as beautiful as my Dane, run for the hills. You cannot escape him once he wants you. You cannot pretend you have some kind of control on the situation. You have to leave.

Be careful, dear reader.


End file.
